Origins of Bobby Singer: Part 1
by 110283
Summary: Sort of TAG to Dream a Little Dream of Me: Set up like the comic book- basically title says it all. The story of how Bobby singer became a hunter. Please read, we all love Bobby and he deserves a chance. Please R & R
1. Beginnings

**Origins: Bobby Singer**

**Part 1:**

**Chapter 1 – Beginnings**

**Disclaimer: Same old boring disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural**

**So this is going to be my special story. I am going to put my heart and soul into this story so you better like it! Just kidding, well about the last part anyways. This is the first chapter, and it just explains Bobby's life after he got married, and before things went horribly wrong. If you haven't figured it out this story is set up like the supernatural comic book 'Origins' but instead of it being the origins of John Winchesters hunting career, it's the origins of Bobby Singer's. Since we don't know much about Bobby most of my information is made up, and ignore my ignorance of American geography, I'm sorry but I am Canadian (hehe). I hope you enjoy, and I'm sorry but there won't be much Sam and Dean, probably no Winchesters at all in this first part.**

His name was Bobby Singer, and he had to have been the happiest man alive at that moment.

He sat there looking at his newly bought house. The house was old that was for sure, and hadn't been lived in for quite some time. If he had to guess how old it was he would have to say about 150 years old. Some of the windows were shattered, and the ones that weren't were covered in decade's worth of filth. The front deck was filled with rotting wood, and there were rats. Man did he hate rats. He was no contractor, construction worker or any other of those professions where he might have any inkling of an idea about houses, but this house was screwed, and yet he had bought it.

He sat back now on the front lawn in the old lawn chair that had been abandoned on the lawn, with a cold beer in his hand and looked at the house. He couldn't help but sigh, how he could have been so stupid to have bought this house.

He sat there and thought about how he had gotten to this moment.

He was 16 years old and had been working, doing odds and ends around town. It hadn't been much of a job, or a life but it supported him. One day he had been trying to fix old Mrs. Frothun's front porch, when he had saw her. She had just moved to the small South Dakota town from Illinois. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had short curly brown hair, the most beautiful brown eyes, and a smile that never left her face. He would later find out that her name was Margaret Smith.

He would stare at her for hours on end at school. 'Accidentally' bump into her in the General Store and take as many jobs as he could that were close to her house. Apparently she had been watching him to, because within a month of her moving to the small town, they had started to meet secretly until it had grown into a relationship. The day after they had graduated from high school he had proposed to her, and two days after that they had fled to the nearest chapel and gotten eloped.

Her parents had been furious, the whole town was in fact, but they didn't care because they were in love. All of that had been months ago.

They didn't have enough money to go on a honeymoon, or to buy a nice house. One day they had going through Sioux County South Dakota on their way to Texas for a possible job opportunity, when they had passed the house. Margaret had instantly fallen in love with it. He had just looked at it seen a money hole, and he wasn't a very superstitious man, but the house gave him a bad feeling. Margaret loved it though, and it was in their price range so they had bought it, and that was where he was now, sitting back and looking at what he had done.

He had taken a look inside when they had first bought it, and he couldn't get the disturbing feeling to go away, the house just creeped him out, so since then he had refused to go inside, which was making his wife upset.

They would have to start renovations soon so they could actually live in their house, at the moment they were living in a motel room in town. That meant that he would have to get a job. He had always liked working with cars and had planned on becoming a mechanic, so that would be what he would do. Tomorrow would be the beginning of a new life. He would have a house, a job, and most importantly a family. He hadn't had a family since his parents died when he was 14 years old. Yes this was going to be the beginning of a wonderful new life, crappy house and all.

**So this it so far, what do you think, should I continue?**


	2. Strange Occurences

**Chapter 2 – Strange Occurrences**

**So far no one seems to like this story but it's only been half an hour. I know I asked if I should continue, but I don't care I'm going to continue this story for as long as I can, because personally I like it, I love Bobby. For those of you who aren't reading this because of the no ****Winchester**** thing, well you suck, just kidding. The story is leading up to them, but remember this story is about our favourite reoccurring character, so please read, and I promise that the Winchesters will make an appearance in Part 2.**

Time had passed. How long had it been? He had no idea, but today was the day, they were moving into their house. It had taken a long time, and a lot of money, but their home was finally ready to be lived in.

All Bobby could do was stare. By no means was the house a palace, or perfect, but compared to what it had been… wow. He could now see why Margaret had loved it. It was a beautiful house.

All the windows and doors were new. Freshly painted siding adorned the outside, beautiful flower beds that his wife had spent weeks on, and new wall paper and antique furniture adorned the inside. Again it was far from perfect, but it was a home, it was the beginning of his new life.

"Oh, honey isn't it perfect. I told you it would be beautiful." He heard his wife say as she approached from behind.

"Yes, it is. We're going to be so happy here."

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_Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip…_

_……………………_

_Scrrrrrrraaaaaaattch…………_

_………………….._

_Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip…_

What was that sound. Every night, as soon as the lights were out he could hear scratching, running, and dripping. The most disturbing was the occasional sound of laughter and footsteps that could be heard in the attic. This house had problems, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Ever since they had moved here he had had a bad feeling, he had the feeling that he was being watched.

The first time it had happened Margaret had been in town getting some groceries, he had been sitting in the living room reading a book. He had heard a loud crash come from the basement and heard laughter, like a child's laugh. It had scared the crap out of him.

He went to go find the cause of the commotion – he had thought that maybe one of the neighbour's kids had somehow gotten in -. When he got to the basement he was met with sheer chaos. All of their spare stuff that they hadn't moved into the main house had been in the basement. All of his books, and Margaret's potted flowers and other trinkets were torn apart, smashed, and scattered all over the large room, not one area, or object had been spared. Margaret would be devastated. He couldn't leave the room the way it was so he started to clean it up. The whole time he had been cleaning he had felt like he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end, and he had felt terrified, and he didn't scare easily.

Strange occurrences like the first kept happening. Things in the house would go missing or mysteriously break, and there was a constant laughter that would echo through the house. He had pinpointed most of the disturbances to the attic. Neither one of them had made it up there, personally he was too afraid. Margaret on the other hand seemed to be perfectly at peace. Things only broke when he was around, and Margaret had started to blame him. The noises only happened when he was alone, or when Margaret was asleep. He apparently was the only one who thought anything strange was going on.

The laughter continued up in the attic, and he tried the best he could to ignore it and go back to sleep.

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He was fed up. Today he had been standing on the landing of the stairs when an invisible force had tried to knock him down the stairs. After he had regained his balance he heard someone whispering his name. The voice was getting farther away from him trying to draw him into the attic, well screw it he wasn't going to play its games.

He had to find out what was happening because it was scaring the shit out of him.

He found his wife out in the garden. She loved the outdoors and flowers.

"Hey, sweetheart I'm heading into town for awhile. Do we need anything?"

"No, be back soon."

He left as quickly as he could, practically running away from the house. His first stop in town was the library. He would try and find anything he could about their house.

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Nothing, that was what he had found, absolutely nothing! The local library had a limited selection of books and nothing on local history.

He had decided to talk to some elderly towns' folk about why the house had been abandoned for so long, but all they could tell him was that everybody thought it was haunted, everybody was afraid of it.

He had no more ideas left, and he couldn't leave the house, Margaret loved it, and he loved her.

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As quickly as it had started, it had stopped. Everything seemed fine now, the noises had stopped, and everything had remained in its rightful place. The house was peaceful.

He now knew that there was more out there than what met the eye, he was now a superstitious man, but his house was no longer haunted, and that he was sure of.

**Please, Please comment or something, I need to know if people like this or not, and it makes me feel good when people review. I'll probably have the next chapter up in another half an hour to an hour, but after that you might not see another chapter for awhile, school is busy.**


	3. Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter 3 - Calm before the Storm**

**So I broke my promise, I was to tired last night to post another chapter, but here it is. Nobody seems to be taking an interest in this story, and I can't help but wonder if it's because of the no ****Winchester**** thing. C'mon people, this is Bobby we're talking about, we love Bobby. This is my special story, and almost no one's reading it, I sit here and cry I'm crying right now, well no, but it's not that bad. Thank you so far to everyone that has read this story, and I will keep posting these messages until people give it a chance.**

**So this story is almost done, I think one more chapter, and then it's onto part 2, which will have the Winchesters in it. This will probably be my last chapter for awhile though, world lit is coming up, and I'm going to Boston next week, and there will be plenty of homework, school sucks, but I will try and post again soon.**

**Enjoy**

He lay there, next to his beautiful wife just staring at the ceiling. The last four years had gone without incident, the last unexplained creepy thing that had happened was the strange whispering trying to lead him up to the attic, and the house had been absolutely quiet since then.

Bobby still felt creeped out by the house. Whatever it had been it had come from the attic, and Bobby refused to go up there, and he refused to let Margaret go up there. She had called him crazy and paranoid, but she had listened to him because she could see the all too real fear that was in his eyes.

Life had been good to them. There house was completely finished, and the envy of everyone in the neighbourhood. He had been promoted and now was the best mechanic in the small garage in town. Margaret was a nurse at the hospital in the next town over, and they were even thinking about having kids. Yep life was good.

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Margaret loved her husband so much, he was a good husband and a good provider, but she was worried about him. He had changed from the man she had fallen in love with. Ever since they had moved into the house he had seemed distant and scared. She remembered how when they had first moved in she would come home from work to find the house in complete disaster, or to find their possessions smashed. At first she had been angry, but that had quickly turned to worry.

A couple months after they had moved in, Bobby had started acting normal, well sort of, he wasn't as scared anymore. From then on things were the picture of normalcy. Their jobs were good, their home was beautiful, and they were as in love as when they had first met.

Today was a special day, not that anyone else but she would know. Today was the anniversary of when they had first moved in, and even if it was just her that cared, she wanted to celebrate it, so here she was cooking bacon and eggs for her husband, it was his favourite.

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Bobby was woken up by the smell of bacon. Oh how he loved bacon. His body was on auto pilot as he moved towards the smell. As he stood up he heard a soft squeal from below. When he looked down he saw a family of rats, no not a family more like a gathering underfoot. As soon as they saw him they ran off in all directions.

"Damn Rats, disgusting animals!" Bobby couldn't help but yell. He could still hear the squealing, and he didn't want to see them so he closed his eyes for a moment. As soon as he opened them all the rats were gone, there was no trace that they had ever been there

Trying desperately to forget the disgusting occurrence that had just happened Bobby continued to make his way down to the kitchen.

"Was that you yelling upstairs?"

"Ya, sorry bout, that just some rats, and you know how much I hate rats. We should call an exterminator."

"No, you can't kill them they disserve to live."

"Fine then we'll get humane traps!" He couldn't help but snap, how could anyone like rats. He looked up to see the pained expression across his wife's face.

"Oh… I'm so sorry honey, I didn't mean to yell, it's just… they're rats."

"Its okay… I made you breakfast."

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Bobby had been at work for the past six hours working on some hunk of crap, his boss had finally let him go for the night. Not quite ready to go home yet he had decided to go to the local bar.

He was now on his fourth beer, and the sole patron of the bar. It didn't seem to be very busy on a early Wednesday night.

He was looking down at his beer, and the ring of perspiration that it had left on the counter. For some reason it seemed interesting, 'just the alcohol taking affect' he told himself. When he looked up again, he found that he was no longer the only one in the bar. There in a corner table at the back of the bar was an old man. He looked so old that it seemed like he could die any second.

Strange, not many people lived in this town, and he pretty much knew them all, and very few tourists ever came through, but yet this man he had never seen before.

What was even more disturbing was the fact that the old man was staring right at him. He had had a crappy day already, he didn't need some crazy old coot staring at him, so he continued to stare down at his beer, still not willing to go home.

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He had been sitting there for an hour now, and the man had not yet stopped staring, what the hell was this guy's problem? Not able to take it anymore, he decided it was time to confront the man.

The man was sitting in the back of the bar, almost completely hidden in the shadows. How had he seen him from his table? As he approached the man started to smile the creepiest smile he had ever seen.

He had made it to the old man, and sat across from him. Even though he was so close the older man was still immersed in the shadows giving him a creepy mystique.

He started to open and close his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out, finally the old man cleared his throat, and began to speak:

"You live at the end of Century Farm Road." It was said as more of a statement than a question.

Bobby was stunned, and creeped out, WHAT the hell did this man want!

"Umm… yes, in the old blue house."

"Yes. Yes. I thought so. What do you know about that house?"

This conversation was getting weirder by the second, but Bobby felt compelled to answer the man's questions.

"Nothing, I don't know anything, nobody knows anything about it."

"I guess that's a good thing… it's a good thing you don't know what kind of evil resides there, most would not be able to comprehend it."

"What!?"

"Never mind me, I'm just a crazy old man, just be careful, that house it can a safe haven, or it can be hell. Evil lives there that takes the innocence away from those who it chooses, so be careful! … you best be going home now, something bad might happen if you don't."

Right as the old man finished his cryptic message, Bobby's attention was taken away by the ringing of the bell signalling that someone was coming into the bar. When he turned back around, the old man was gone.

He wanted to find out who the old man was but he had a feeling in the gut of his stomach, he had a feeling that Margaret was in trouble.

He practically ran out the door, and into his old truck. On the way home he probably broke several sped laws, but he didn't care, the feeling of unease was only getting stronger.

The night was a beautiful warm summer night, bright and lively. He could hear the crickets, and owls, even the coyotes in the forests howling at each other, but as soon as he got home, and stepped out of his truck there was nothing. There were no crickets chirping, no coyotes howling, no sound that anything was alive, the atmosphere around his home was chilly, unnaturally cold, and his house seemed dark, the sky was even dark overtop his house, there was no moon or stars in sight. The hair on the back of his neck went up, hell he could feel the hair on the top of his head start to stand on end, and the unease was so strong now that he felt like he wanted to hurl. Something was definitely wrong.

For a moment he stood there, to scared to do anything, but that moment quickly passed when he realized that his wife was in there, and whatever was in that house was in there with her.

He ran to the porch, and stumbled up the steps. When he got in the house, there was a single lamp turned on beside the high winged chair in the living room, in it was his wife. She had an unnatural smile on her face, and was staring at him.

"Hello sweetheart, I'm so glad that your finally home." The statement that would have normally sounded so sweet to him coming from her lips now sounded sinister, and sent warning bells ringing through his head.

"Margaret, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong Bobby, I was just sitting here waiting for you."

For a moment she looked down, and closed her eyes, when she looked up at him again, he could have sworn that her eyes had turned black, her beautiful brown eyes!

He swore that her eyes had turned black!


	4. The Possession

**Chapter 4 - The Possession **

**Okay, so I know that I said I wouldn't update in awhile because school is busy, but who knew that I would have 3 spares today, so I writing possibly the last chapter.**

The way he felt that night, so scared, so very very scared, and so helpless, well that feeling had yet to go away.

Ever since that night things had taken a turn for the worst. It was like he was in the twilight zone. Margaret had turned from a loving wife, to something resembling a robot, or a pod person. It was like she was someone else who didn't know how to act like Margaret.

Every morning he would wake up to the smell of a freshly baked breakfast. This morning it was pancakes. Margaret didn't even know how to make pancakes! The house was always spotless, so clean that he could have eaten off the floor if he wanted to, and when she was done she would just stand there with a blank stare.

He was so scared, scared for Margaret and scared for himself.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Something was in his house, and he was sure that it was in his attic. That was where the noises had originated from, that was where that thing whatever it was had tried to lure him to, and whatever that thing was, he was sure it was messing with his wife.

The only way to end it, and have the perfect life that he had always wanted would be to kill whatever it was. To bad he had no idea. Right now his only idea was to go up into the attic.

As he got closer he started to feel more anxious, and scared. That old man had been right; something evil was in this house.

In the attic, everything seemed, well very attic like. The previous owners had obviously left in a hurry, and all of their old possessions were left there. The house had been abandoned for so long, that inches worth of dust had gathered on the stuff. As far as he could tell, everything was normal, and everything was in its place.

He opened an old trunk just out of curiosity. In the trunk was hundreds of old photos. The photos were very old, some were crumbling in his hands, but they were all of a family. There were pictures of them on the beach, at the park, random shots from around the house, and holiday photos. One of the photos had a picture of an old man in it. On a closer inspection he saw that it was the old man from the bar, on the back it said Grandpa, summer of 1912.

Well that explained that mystery.

He couldn't find anything off in the attic, there was no sign that anyone had been up there in at least 30 years. As he came around a stack of old boxes, he noticed that some of the dust was moved around, and there was a large piece of material snagged on a rickety rocking chair. He knew that pattern; it was from his wife's favourite dress. His wife had been in the attic!

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The only thing he knew about any of this stuff was from the old horror movies that he used to watch. Hell 5 years ago he didn't believe that any of this could ever have existed.

Maybe it was a ghost. Somehow that didn't seem to fit. He remembered movies that had demons in them, what was that movie that he had liked so much… the Exorcist, yes that was it. The people's eyes had turned black. A demon seemed like the most reasonable explanation.

He needed help, but who was going to help him, everyone would just call him crazy. He would have to do this alone. He had no idea about what to do, how would he get rid of a demon.?

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Hours at the library and he had come up with nothing. The only thing he could find was in some ancient looking text that said if you damaged the demons host enough than the demon would no longer be able to inhabit the demon. That was his only option, but that would mean hurting Margaret, possibly killing her.

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Things had changed so fast, so suddenly, and he was sure now of what he had to do, he was going to have to hurt Margaret.

He knew something was definitely up now, and whatever was in Margaret knew that he knew. She no longer held up the façade of normalcy, of the Stepford wife. Her eyes, her beautiful, warm, kind brown eyes, had now permanently turned to black, a hateful endless black, that made him want to run away as fast as he could, but he couldn't he had to save her.

The other day was when things had turned for the worse. She had gone up into the attic, and apparently she knew that he had been up there, and she didn't like that very much. She had attacked him, at first it was just her attacking him with her fists, with an unnatural human strength. He fought back, so instead she took to beating him with objects, chairs, vases, lamps, whatever she could get her hands on. Finally, before he had decided to bolt, she had grabbed the knifes, he knew he was screwed then, his wife was trying to kill him.

After she had gotten into the knifes, he ran, ran as far and fast as he could. She did not follow; apparently she couldn't leave the house. As a matter of fact as he thought back he remembered that he hadn't seen her outside in the gardens since that night when he had come home from the bar. This could work in his favour.

He now was homeless, and had taken up to sleeping in the garage. At first his boss had been suspicious, but he had told him that he was having marriage problems, and his boss had understood.

He needed a plan. He knew that the only way to get the demon out of his wife was to hurt her badly, but hopefully he could hurt her bad enough to get the demon out, but he would be able to get her to the hospital, and then she would be fine. They would be able to put South Dakota in their rear-view mirror, and have the perfect live that they had almost had. It would have to work!

He would do it tonight.

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He was now in stealth mode, or whatever it would be called, and he was nervous as hell, he was going to have to hurt his wife. How could he do that? He loved her so very much, and to see her in any pain would be unbearable for him.

Someone had crossed the window where he was currently situated. That demon was in his wife, she was in pain right now. No, there would be no second thoughts, this had to be done, and the demon had to be killed.

He crept slowly and quietly to the front door, and snuck inside, his wife was nowhere to be seen. He made his way into the kitchen, and grabbed one of the sharp kitchen knifes, this would have to do, it would get the job done.

There was a noise on the staircase, and suddenly he was being tackled to the ground. His hand was pinned above his head, he was unable to move the knife, and he was screwed.

His wife's face was contorted into a look of pure evil, into something hideous and unknown to him, and that seeing his love like that gave him the strength to fight back. Quickly, quicker than he would have thought he could move, his hand swung up, and was about to plunge the long knife into his wife, but suddenly things seemed to slow down, his hand felt like it was moving through molasses.

In a voice that was not his wife's, she said:

"Kill me, you kill your wife!"

And once again time sped up. He plunged the knife into her again and again, into her chest; he couldn't believe what he was doing, and how easily he was. He had to stop, he didn't want to kill her, he wanted to kill the demon.

Finally he was able to stop, and his wife fell to the ground. With one last breath of life, he heard his wife, HIS WIFE scream a blood curdling scream as black smoke started to spill out of her mouth. His wife was now lifeless, he didn't know whether she was dead or alive.

He now felt the pain of what he had done, but he didn't have long to grieve, because the black smoke was taking a form, a form of a small child, in a dirty white dress.

"You have succeeded in doing nothing other than killing your wife, and I have yet again stolen the innocence away from a family. You should have listened to the old man, you should have stayed away."

The girl, without even lifting a finger slammed into a wall, and he fell to the floor in a boneless heap. As he began to lose consciousness, he could hear the girl running away, and laughing, that same laugh that he Had heard all those years ago. She was mocking him, reminding him of his failures.

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As he first started to regain consciousness he became aware of blood, lots of blood, the next thing he was aware of was his wife, laying next to him. He was covered in her blood.

He got up as quickly as he could manage, but it was to late, she was dead.

He didn't know how long he sat there. He held her body, and cried. He had loved her so much, and he had been the one to do this to her. He had killed her.

"I love you Margaret, I'm so sorry… sorry…"

Again time seemed to pass. It must have been hours, or maybe days, but the sun was now shining. There was a knock at the door. the next thing he knew there was a tall man standing beside him.

"I'm guessing you already know about the supernatural." the man said. the look on Bobby's face was enough to give him his answer.

"My name is Isaac, i can help you. i am a hunter, I hunt and kill creatures like the demon that did this to your family." bobby still said nothing.

the man gently took his wife out of his hands, and that was the last thing that he remembered.

**I hope this chapter is okay, cause i wrote it during math and history spares (what a day) and didn't have time to proof read. Thankyou very much to everyone who read this story, and to those people who reviewed. i thought maybe this story would be an interest to people, but whatever.**

**Thankyou toManiae what you said was very nice, and it made me feel better.**

**I will hopefully post part 2 soon, and the second part focuses on Bobby's relationship with the Winchesters.**


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